Nowhere to run
by TheBlackCatCrossing
Summary: Slash warning. RR. Kept here for archival reasons. This thing is old as Hell but I am proud of it.


Disclaimer: Batman and Joker are both owned by Time Warner, the granddaddy conglomerate that includes Warner Brothers and DC Comics. This was written for my sick pleasure.

WARNING: This is a slash one shot that includes sensual scenes between Batman and the Joker. If you do not like slash **_do not read_**. I will not tolerate flames just because you don't like slash, but constructive criticism is always welcome. Let me know what you think. I'm always grateful to know that someone has taken the time to view my work and leave feedback. I have a fragile ego.

**I read this and decided it read like a really bad wedgie so I made some updates. Hope you like. **

This is dedicated to my only fan, Miss Anony Miss731! Love ya! You have made this psycho very happy.

Okay, kids, enjoy!

They both knew it would come down to something like this. It was inevitable. After spending years and years running around in circles it would finish like this, or something like it.

The sound of a gun cocking shot into Bruce Wayne's senses, rattling any remnants of security and digging up painful memories of lost innocence. "Hi, there, miss me?" slithered an all too familiar voice. The Joker. Despite being without a cowl, Batman still put up a fight. "My aim is getting better." The Batman shot back. The Joker scoffed in response, as was always full of it, trying to tease him with taunts, teases, and pet names. Anything to get his attention. And without fail.

Bruce Wayne mentally debated whether or not to answer the remark. But it didn't require an answer and yet he was cornered at the same time. His first line of defense was broken. "Now is that any way to treat an univited guest" The clown teased. Apprehension chilled the air and The Dark Knight was caught. Rain fell down the side of his head and touched the kevlar that cucooned the beat that paced at a thousand miles per hour.

"You're going back to Arkham, even if you knew who I am they still wouldn't believe you!" Batman snarled.

He was caught. Ensnared in a trap that required more planning than he could concoct at the moment. But he wasn't beaten. Oh, no. He'd rather dare the demons of Hell than surrender to the homicidal maniac a few feet behind him who was watching him like an agile leopard about to pounce."Oh, sweetheart," Joker cooed. "How many times must we use this ol'e merry go round? This chase we've been through all these years, I was thinking of changing it up a notch..." Joker gave off a fit of ill repressed giggles while playing with the shaft of the pistol in his hands. "I mean, really. Isn't it about time for some changes, if you will." What the hell was he talking about? This was just another way to throw him off edge. His only plan was getting into the Batman's hair. Just another trick to make him slip.

The taller, larger man, hazy from being exposed and only feet away from his archenemy maintained the remaining vapors of fortitude he could muster. Trapped but still fighting. He could only go so long. He heard footsteps motioning forward. Closer. Don't give in. "You're a smart man, Bats". A shrill voice teased. Batman clenched his fists bottling up any sense of rage. He had to maintain composure, control. He couldn't let the Joker see him at his most vulnerable. He heard a click. He flinched.

No pain.

Turning his head slightly enough to keep his profile away form the Joker, he could see a pistol lying nearby. But he couldn't see its possessor anymore. He was gone, alone. A few seconds later he felt two twig like arms in purple wrap around his waist and meet at the top of his stomach. White hands clasped him close. Batman felt his boiling point rise exponentially. He was rattled and shaken, but for some reason he could not dislocate himself from the Joker's embrace. "How long have we known each other, love?" Green eyes spoke from behind his right shoulder. Batman maintained his dying ounces of restraint. "Get your hands off of me you disgusting degenerate!" he roared. "Now, that is just rude!" Joker gasped with mock sincerity.

The clown pulled in closer, intrigues by the taller, muscular man. A sweat droplet ran down the side of Batman's exposed forehead. "You're insane, you're only purpose is to shake up people for your own sick fetish." The larger man retained his Dark Knight voice. "Mmmmm, really?" the pale faced man purred. "Tell me more". He wriggled in closer, burying his face into the other man's back before looking up and garnet lips spoke. "Let me tell you something, Guano-breath…." The psychopath behind the Bat leaned in closer. Batman felt a slight pull.

"I do it because you mean the world to me".

A breeze of hot air in his neck generated volumes of unease, and warmth, which was just enough for his body to induce throughout his entire frame against the cold air and falling rain. Was that his definition of 'Tough Love'?

"You're like rain Batman. You're slippery, you hinder plans, you leave me all wet, but most of all, you nourish me." Batman's cerebral course of action went into a haze with rage, hatred, and anxiety. Emotions were flying everywhere. He didn't catch the two white hands beginning to move up and down his torso in a rhythmic fashion. Almost hypnotic. And he still couldn't move them. Did he want to move them? It was as if he was frozen, his arms were tied up. No, that was a stupid idea. Something inside of him was kicking and screaming to get out, but he couldn't unleash it. He felt his vigor start to wane. "You're a sick psychotic bastard, Joker!" Batman barked. The clown ignored him momentarily.

"I always thought you were too cute to be a robot, you were always so full of life, vibrancy, and it's such a turn on." Batman felt his stomach churn. "You're Halloween costume is only a part of you. The part that the scum of Gotham has to come to know, fears, and hate, as you've done me. It is still you." Joker's words cut him like a knife. "Your role as Batman is only an aspect of who you are. A monster."

He was a monster. He scared people. It was his job. But a monster harms people, innocent people. He wasn't that. "Something must have made you tick, why else would you dress up as a flying rat?" It was a shot in the dark. The Joker, of all people had deduced his identity. Not quite yet, but he came close enough to make the Dark Knight's legs feel like jello. He screamed internally. "But you are still you, and whoever you are. I've grown fonder of you with every encounter. I want it all." He squeezed the muscle bound form in front of him. "I love you. Both of you. All of you." The words that breathed into his neck blistered the skin and sent shivers throughout his entire build. It was the fear at first. The fear of being exposed. It died. It was about the painful truth uncovered by the worst of his enemies. He was caught. The notion ricocheted and shattered the walls that protected him and dove into the pit of his stomach and burned at his soul. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Yes, Catwoman and Talia provided Batman with their affections but was it true love? They only loved a part of him. The people of Gotham loved Bruce Wayne, but they feared the Batman. Was the man really loved? People only loved 'parts' of him. The words were digested when he felt the two arms loosen and let go.

_I love you_

Coming from his archenemy, it all seemed absurd. An oxymoron, but after absorbing the words the Joker said earlier, maybe it was he who was troubled and running. In denial. Too blind to see what was there. He didn't think that there were any subliminal messages behind the Joker's taunts and comments. But the reality in the Joker's words dismissed all that and it hit him like an anvil. The Joker existed to torment him. The only good he has done for Batman was polish his skills for the next encounter. It was test and Batman would barely pass with his life every time. The many years that they have danced this deadly dance, neither understood one another. They hated each other, and yet, they shared more waltzes than all the other rogues combined.

The harlequin stepped back when he saw the unmasked Batman raise his head, slightly intimidating him. Like a statue coming to life, Batman turned around to face his enemy. No longer restrained, but it was carried out with sprain. Face to face with the millionaire playboy he had seen countless times before. Slight trepidation was evident on the Joker's semi curled fingers. Bruce Wayne was expecting to see that infamous beam, waiting to collect his prize. He was surprised to be greeted by a hint of that smile. It was a far gentler façade. It looked pleased. Even a firm glare was not enough to keep the clown from motioning towards him, stopping just inches from the tall dark man. It gave the Joker enough room to do what he wanted to do.

Lightning white hands reached up between the two men and traveled up past the chest muscles of the taller man before settling on his throat. Delicate fingertips danced on the sides of the thick strong neck. Testing for a reaction. Blood rushed underneath the thick skin which was not enough to hide the tension rising beneath the Joker's touch. "Shhhh." Ruby lips parted, "It's okay, I forgot my buzzers today." He chuckled softly. He produced a fraction of his notorious smile. The Joker's dark humor did not deter the anxiety building within Bruce. The violation of his privacy and his identity had dealt him a very hard blow, but to have the Joker, the JOKER, touch him in an intimate manner was more than the other two reasons would amount too.

It created a pleasant tingle.

Batman mentally kicked himself before being lost into the sensation of the Joker's hands on his throat which were now making their way to his face. They were soft hands, delicate hands, very feminine. His anxiety downplayed immensely by the Joker's caress. A salubrious fervor bred by the Joker's stroke produced automatic reflexes in Batman's arms , as he reached out and placed his hands in the lower part of the Clown Prince's upper arm. Perhaps as a final attempt to restrain the madman, to keep his body from experiencing another wave of guilty pleasure generated by the Joker's feel, or was it to clutch at his safety net? He did not want to let go of that warmth that he felt on his neck, face, himself.

The suggestion was rising within him. And with each passing moment, it became more and more difficult to lock it deep in the nether recesses of his psyche.

The Joker took the silence as a cry to continue, even though the lithe frame could feel the anxiety emanate from the other man. He watched in morbid fascination as his right hand traced the lips of the man above him. The other rested just below the chin. Batman's arms still attached. Joker experimented with the lips he had seen many times before. They were the only human residual of the Bat. They communicated. Teeth clenched at the Joker's explorations. The Joker responded with a pleased sensual poise, shaking his Bat out of his inner cage and in his arms. The next destination on the Joker's reconnaissance went higher.

Deep green eyes locked and intertwined with the blue above him. He gazed at them with curious abandon. Blue, like the sea. Batman and Bruce Wayne were both deep men. The Joker marveled at their beauty. They were like orbs sucking him into an abyss. Batman himself never got a good look at the Joker. He was consumed all the time in searching for a motive that proliferated through his eyes. And what eyes. A sharp shade of green, very much like Ivy's, no wonder he half expected to be poisoned by the Joker's touch. They matched his hair, a field of beryl, give or take a nuance or two. They were undeniably beautiful. The milky skin surrounding them seemed to highlight them a little more.

Eden colored eyes, nature. Nurture. Isn't that what the Joker had been doing? Nurturing his skills?

"Oh!" The Joker chirped, still hypnotized by the nuance of azure. He gazed in deeper. He felt the blue eyes pierce at him. Hate. The up curled lips slowly faded. Bruce could feel the warmth extinguish as the Joker dissolved himself away from his grasp. Without hesitating, Bruce's muscles clenched and pulled in an attempt to win the Joker back. Hands stained with the residue of millions of lives he has destroyed, the triggers he has pulled to hurt the man opposite from him, were cradling his face. He did not want to let go of that warmth.

"Are you afraid of me?" A familiar Dark voice snarled, slightly jerking the Clown Prince at his elbows. He gained a slight satisfaction from the dominance he projected. The jester shook his head. "No", he stated gently, just barely above a whisper. He refused to look at those handsome blue eyes, at that face. He was still chilling without the cowl, Joker's ego tried to hide it. "You're shaking", the Dark Knight pushed. "It's just, you're so beautiful". He sighed. Once again, his hands reached up settling on the sides of Bruce's face, massaging the flesh underneath his palms. His lips slightly parted in awe.

By this time, Bruce had forgotten momentarily about the past of the man in his possession. Batman forgot about himself. Everything he had kept hidden away and buried was dug up and debunked. He had kept it away for a purpose, but now that it had been disclosed and brought to light, he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Was it really necessary it hide away all those secrets? Sooner or later, someone was going to find out, and usually they were people who cared dearly about. The words that the Joker spoke burned at Batman's restraints. The painful truth in his dialog scorched at his icy shackles and produced a feeling of which he himself had long denied but was starved for.

The bitter irony suddenly hit him.

It came from his arch nemesis, someone he had shared a deep history with. So many run ins, so many shared moments. The gravitational pull between the two far transcended hate. They had so many chances to destroy one or the other and they still refuse to do the deed. They had a connection, a magnetism that no one else in their lives would come close to comprehending or even compare too. Not Dick, not Tim, Jim, or Barbara.

Selina was usually on the wrong side of the law, and she was her own person. Never one to venture deeper into their encounters, and Talia was almost always under the thumb of her father, poor poor Talia.

Harley, forget it! She was just plain obsessed! It was one thing to be unconditionally in love with someone, but it was something else altogether to be living off the air they breathed.

They both had an undeniable passion for each other.

The new rules. A new dance? He felt himself fall apart. He could not let go of the safety net in front of him. Joker took note of the other man's silence. It slight aggravated him that the Bat, helpless in his arms, would not communicate. It was up to him to initiate further interaction. He gently shushed the hyperventilating Bruce and gently pulled his head downward to face his. Once again he caught a glimpse of those lovely shades of blue. He looked up innocently at Bruce's profile, creating a girlish curiosity that translated to irresistible charm to the Dark man. He stretched upward, trying to close the gap between their faces. He felt a hot breeze brush against his cheek. Without hesitation, because there was no way out of this and because he couldn't afford to lie to himself any more, Bruce lowered his head to claim the Joker's parted cherry red lips with his.

It was a release.

For years, the only words exchanged involved exploding devices, punches, and a black eye. Words weren't needed to express the passion driving the two men. The intensity in their kiss was just enough to convey each other's thoughts, feelings, and desires. Joker was reeling in the moment! His hands stretched out and snaked their way to the back of Bruce's head, holding him close. He did not want this to end soon. Bruce returned the favor by tracing his gloved hands down the Joker's arms and pressing themselves on his lower back. Bruce was never a heavy drinker, and even at special occasions he never allowed himself more than glass of the bubbly, but he felt that the taste of the Joker in his mouth was far richer than any of the world's finest wines.

Joker decided to be a little bit more adventurous and extended his tongue into Bruce's mouth, in which the he was more then happy to receive. He rewarded the playful clown with added strokes on his back and added pressure to the kiss which made the Joker lean back a little. Even the extra zeal was a bit too much for the harlequin who broke the kiss to catch his breath looking upward, exposing a long swan like neck. Bruce took the offering and initiated to run gentle kisses on it. The Joker sighing created more endorphins than Bach or Mozart could fabricate into Bruce Wayne's senses. He wanted to hear it again. He trailed a few more pecks on the frail neck and upwards onto Joker's face. The nibbles began to send the clown into a delighted convulsion. "That tickles" he giggled. Bruce ceased nuzzling Joker's face and gazed down at him with a small smirk. His hands were holding the Joker firmly at the waist. "What's wrong, Joker. I thought you wanted my attention..." remarked the playboy. "I didn't say stop silly, you were eating my face", responded the purple clad jester who teasingly waved a no-no finger and nuzzled the other man's chin with his nose before settling his arms on the ones wrapped around him.

The familiar connotation in the Joker's eyes was unmistakable. Bruce pressed in for another kiss. The Joker melted into it with reckless abandon.

It was at first glance difficult to decipher if the Joker was pulling Bruce or if the playboy was aggressively pushing the Clown Prince, nonetheless, they both ended up at the desired destination on the canopy bed in the main bedroom. That night, two once arch enemies who came immediately close at obliterating one another in the past, opened a new chapter in their history. The Joker, who would always readily lead Batman into a battle of bombs or wits let himself be guided and submitted to whatever the Dark Knight wanted. The chase that came to define them on opposite sides of the spectrum was turning the tides. A nagging sense of reprehension was in the back of Bruce's mind, but he had forgotten exactly why. Perhaps it was a combination of fear and angst seized his gut. He was falling apart, literally. He did not want to admit it being pulled down into madness. But he could not refuse the burning devotion below that was reaching out him. He wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

He did not want an answer.

And then he woke up.


End file.
